The Next Twenty-Four
by A2MOM
Summary: "The next twenty-four hours are going to get ugly," Encke said. A story about what happens to young men during war. Cain/Abel, implied Encke/Keeler, Porthos/Deimos, Praxis/Athos, OC. Mature rated for sex, graphic depicitions of war, and language.


The Next Twenty-Four

* * *

"Abel…Abel? Wake up, Princess, I brought you some breakfast."

Abel opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at Cain as was shaken gently awake. He winced, unfolding himself from his cramped sleeping position on the observation deck floor.

"What day is it?" he yawned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cain hesitated. "Thursday? I think. Just after 1300 hours."

Abel made a face, sitting cross legged like Cain was, and accepted the carton of orange juice from his gloved hand. "You shouldn't have let me sleep so long," he complained, after taking a long, welcome drink.

Cain glowered at him. "You're welcome. And save me some of that; it's the last one they had down in the mess."

Abel passed him the carton and started opening the food packet he'd brought as well . "Pancakes?" He asked hopefully.

"Keep dreamin'. Toast. And save me a piece of that too. I'm gonna go take a leak first."

Abel leaned his aching back against the wall, munching his toast idly as he watched Cain's dark figure pick its way across the crowded deck. The room was full, over twenty-five starfighter teams camped out and awaiting flight rotations. Some were sleeping, as he had been, curled up in corners or around each other for comfort. Others were eating, or talking quietly, or passing the time by playing cards.

Everyone was still in their flight suits. After the non-stop first seventy-two hours of battle, when the _Sleipnir_ had finally moved past the blockade into 'Teron space, there hadn't been much point in changing to off duty clothes. The damn flight suits were a pain to get on and off anyway, and there was no telling when the klaxons were going to wail and they'd have to fly out again. Since the observation deck was the largest open space on the ship-aside from the hangar deck-it had become a sort of campground between one skirmish and the next.

Cain reappeared a few minutes later at the opposite end of the room, and started weaving through the crowd towards Abel again. He was still limping, Abel had tried to get him to go to sickbay when they'd returned to the ship last time, but Cain had stubbornly refused. The infirmary was packed to capacity with wounded anyway, so those with lesser injuries were hastily patched up and turfed back to duty.

Abel saw several men with arms in slings, a braced leg here and there and almost everyone had cuts or bruises. Worst, though, were the men who sat apart from the others, faces blank, chewing their fingernails or drumming their fingers on their thighs. Shock, or flashbacks, or both, he recognized grimly. The level of PTSD after this mission was going to be off the charts.

Cain paused at the make-shift tactical center . It was set up on a banquet table , in front of the massive window that looked out into the dark starfield beyond. Bering and Cook were both there, heads bent over the holo map of 'Teron and Alliance space, running through flight plans with Encke and Keeler.

Cain exchanged a few words with Bering, the older man shaking his head at some question which made Cain's shoulders momentarily sag. Bering laid a paternal hand on his shoulder, and Cain managed a grim smile before resuming his course.

"Did he say anything about Deimos? " Abel asked as soon as Cain sat, heavily, next to him. Cain reached for the toast and orange juice Abel handed him, wolfing it down before answering.

"No, Princess, he probably doesn't even know who the fuck Deimos is," Cain said irritably.

Abel scooted over to make room as Cain lay down, his head in Abel's lap. "We go back on patrol at 17:00 hours," he said, eyes already closed. "Wake me up at 16:45."

Within minutes he had fallen in to an exhausted sleep, Abel slowly running his fingers through his dirty hair. There was a frown creasing his brow and Abel rubbed his back in circles until it disappeared.

They were both worried that the last patrol, including Deimos and his navigator, Porthos, had disappeared too.

* * *

Cain had managed to sleep almost two hours before Encke stood and addressed them all.

"Alright, men, listen up."

Abel never failed to be amazed at how quickly a room could go silent whenever the Lead fighter gave a command. He'd make a fantastic admiral someday, Abel mused. If he survived through the end of the week, that is.

"You've all done an outstanding job so far, but there's still a lot of work to do," Encke said. "The next twenty-four hours are going to get ugly."

Abel swallowed, feeling that knot start to tighten again, deep in his gut. Cain was sitting up now, behind him and must have felt him tense, because he wrapped his strong arms around Abel's waist, tugging so that Abel relaxed back against his chest. Any other time, Abel would have blushed and pushed him away. But this wasn't any other time.

" Intelligence has found what appears to be the 'Terons main fuel supply base, on an asteroid orbiting their second moon. The _Sleipnir_ will arrive at its coordinates in eighteen hours. Until then, check the sleep rotation shifts posted on the message boards, and get some rest. I need all of you fit for duty and ready for the next offensive. Understood?" his deep tenor boomed out at the end.

"Yes, sir!" the room responded as one.

Encke looked around the assembly with a tired smile on his face, and Abel wondered when the last time was he'd had any rest himself.

"Excellent," he praised. "Let's get ready to go kick some 'Teron ass."

* * *

Their flight rotation was moved to 21:00 hours, which meant they could return to their quarters for a period of actual sleep. Abel was beyond relieved; he was hungry, he stunk, and he was sick of sleeping on the unforgiving floor. He could use some alone time with Cain, too.

Their lift was crowded with yawning, silent men and smelled atrocious. Abel leaned back against Cain, who leaned against the lift wall, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Abel recognized a smattering of familiar faces from their squadron. Praxis was there, standing well away from Cain, as well as Keeler's young assistant Puck and his tall, dreadlocked fighter, Oberon. The rest Abel only knew in passing, but it struck him how peaceful it was. This many fighters in one enclosed space was usually trouble.

In battle, the dynamics changed and the playing field was leveled. If you let the everyday pettiness carry over when you flew out with your team, you were as good as dead.

The lift deposited them on their floor, Cain yawning into one hand and slinging his other arm around Abel's shoulders as they walked toward their room.

"Hey, Princess, remind me to punch Praxis is the mouth next time I see him," Cain said absently. "Fucker was staring at your ass the whole ride."

* * *

Before they had turned the corner, the alarm sounded.

"Squadron five returning to hangar bay, all non-essential personnel report for emergency assitance, rapid response team prepare for casualities; repeat: squadron five returning...""

They quickly exchanged a look. Deimos' squadron. Casualties, oh shit.

"Do you think-?" Abel asked, heart in his mouth, but Cain was already turning to run back to the lift.

They took the stairwell on level six, climbing the two floors to the hangar bay on eight when the lifts were too slow for Cain's liking. Abel darted anxious glances at Cain's bad leg but it seemed to be holding his weight fine, though he knew Cain would likely be in alot of pain later.

They exited the stairwell, narrowly avoiding the rush of bodies heading towards the bay.

"Over here!" Cain barked. He grabbed Abel's arm and herded him through an opening in the throng. They reached the huge doors of the bay, and walked in on a sea of chaos.

Four of the six starfighters that had gone out on the last patrol rotation had returned. While Cain joined an extraction team and ran off towards the right, Abel joined a group of medics setting up a tirage wing. The bay smelled strongly of coolant that burned the lining of Abel's throat and nose, making him cough, until the ventilation system kicked in and the air cleared.

All around him station crew were shouting orders and jogging over to secure the battered ships. Abel helped stretcher a screaming navigator with open fractures in both lower legs, turning his head away from the horrifying sight of the jagged tibia shoved obscenely through the poor boy's lower legs. He scanned the room in vain for any sign of Deimos, and then, from the far left, he saw them.

Cain, along with Porthos; Deimos tall, pale haired fighter, had Deimos between them in a two- man carry. Deimos wasn't moving and for a heartstopping moment, seeing his head hanging limply against Cain's shoulder, Abel thought he was dead. He made it to them just as they were swarmed by a team of medics.

"What happened?" Abel asked Porthos, as he helped him to sit on an emergency cot. Porthos had blood running down the left side of his face, and his flight suit was splattered with lime green coolant. Navigational orb must have blown, Abel thought with a shudder.

"We were ambushed, coming back around the-" his words were cut off by a fit of racking coughs that sounded like they'd tear his broad chest in two. A medic gave him a pressure injection in his left shoulder, Porthos winced briefly but then the color seemed to come back into his face. Abel helped him hold an oxygen mask to his mouth and nose, while the medic, after a cursory check of his injuries, slapped a yellow triage sticker on his arm and hurried off.

"Is Deimos...?" Abel asked, and Porthos just shook his head bleakly. Abel helped him lie back on the cot, and when the orderlies came to stretcher him out, he ran over to where Cain and Deimos were.

It wasn't so much the sight of Deimos-chalk white, being stripped and fitted into a shock suit-that brought Abel up short. It was the look on Cain's face, rivited to his broken, lifeless friend that frightened Abel, because for the first time, Cain looked afraid, too. He looked up at Abel's approach, trying and failing to slip the indifferent mask he usualy wore back on his face.

Abel didn't say anything, as they stood useless and silent, staying out of the way of the medics as Deimos was sealed to the neck in the sleak grey suit. Abel watched as the corporeal exchange system began to pump oxygen and blood through Deimos' lifeless body. The tense back and forth dialog between the medics was impossible for him to decipher, but at least Deimos' injuries hadn't rendered him unsalvagable. Abel shuddered in revulsion at the thought, but in war, they were just pieces of equipment too.

He'd slipped his hand into Cain's before he'd even realized it, Cain's fingers gripping his immediately, low and out of sight. When Deimos was stabilized for transfer, Cain turned to Abel, and before he'd even opened his mouth, Abel squeezed his hand and pulled away.

"Stay with him," Abel said, and without looking back, Cain turned, and fled.

* * *

Abel grabbed a quick sandwich at the mess, and went back to their quarters alone. After eating and showering he felt marginally human. Then he stripped and lay down on the bed, waiting for Cain.

After sleeping on the hard floor of the observation deck for over a week, the crummy mattress in their quarters felt like a king sized, pillow top bed. It would have been a lot more comfortable, however, if Cain had been in it, too. A glance at the computer's clock told him Cain had been gone almost an hour.

Abel bit his lip, wondering guiltily if he should go to the infirmary to check on Deimos and Porthos, too. Commander Patel, the ships CMO, had made it clear the infirmary was big enough to hold the injured , and that was it. Any 'visitors' would be pressed into service emptying bedpans. Abel had no idea what that meant, but it didn't sound good.

The door hissed open while he was staring at the ceiling, counting rivet bolts, and Cain entered. He looked strained and irritable to say the least.

"What are you doing, still awake?" he asked by way of greeting. "Waiting for me to come back and fuck you?"

Abel felt himself blush, because of course that was exactly what he'd been doing. Mostly. Cain wasn't looking at him at least, he'd turned away and was peeling off his flight suit and boots.

"Phew," he muttered, stripping off his top, "I've been wondering what that stink is. It's me."

"Is Deimos okay?" Abel asked, sitting up. The blankets spilled down his bare chest to pool in his lap.

Cain didn't answer, his black eyes roaming over Abel briefly.

"Gonna hit the shower" he said, ignoring Abel, and his question, and disappeared into the head.

* * *

When Cain came back fifteen minutes later, he was gloriously naked, hair toweled into inky black spikes.

He was also hard.

"Ready, Princess?" he murmured pulling back the blanket while Abel stared up at him, pulse starting to race with anticipation.

Abel nodded, rising to get up on his hands and knees but then Cain was on top of him, pushing him back down again. His lean, muscular body was deliciously hot from his shower, making Abel gasp as their bodies pressed together head to toe, skin on skin. Without a word Cain took Abel's face in his hands, in an gesture of rare tenderness, and then they were kissing.

It was slow, and erotic and intense, like everything Cain did when they were in bed together. Cain's tongue pushed it's way into Abels mouth, caressing and licking until Abel was mewling in the back of his throat in pleasure.

"Like that?" Cain purred against his lips, sucking gently on the scar and then ghosting his mouth over Abel's jaw.

"Yessss," Abel moaned, arching his neck when Cain pressed his mouth hot and moist against the skin below his ear. He wound his arms around Cain's back, one hand moving up into his hair to hold his head in place. "Feels so good."

"You feel good," Cain murmured against his throat, sucking hard. "Smell sexy..mmm...taste sexy..."

Abel panted, spreading his legs and pushing restlessly against Cain's groin. His hands squeezed Cain's ass, playing with his crack the way he knew Cain liked, but would never admit. Face still buried against Abel's throat, Cain grazed his teeth in warning, but rocked faster just the same.

"Mmmmm!" Abel moaned, loving the sensation of Cain's dick, hot and hard, against his own. His fingers clenched in Cain's damp hair, pulling, and Cain gasped, neck taut and face screwed up in pleasure/pain. Sexy,sexy, Abel's fevered brain chanted. God, Cain made him crazy sometimes.

One of Cain's hands left it's possesive hold on Abel's waist and gropped blindly under Abel's pillow, searching for the oil they used as lube. He reared up when he found it and Abel gave a yelp of surprise as Cain quickly lifted his legs, hooking them effortlessly over his shoulders. Cain flipped up the cap one handed, squirted some oil on Abel's crack and smeared it over his hole in brisk, firm strokes. Abel writhed and cried out but he was trapped, at Cain's mercy completely and when those two fingers slid into him, he twisted and screamed.

The bottle made a small "clunk" when Cain tossed it hastily over his shoulder. Then his mouth was on Abel's again, harder this time, and he positioned the slicked head of his dick and began to push.

"Ohhh! Ngh, ah! Ah! Yes!" Abel cried out, tearing his mouth away, and arcing off the mattress in ecstasy. The slippery oil made him unbearably aroused, and with only a few, grunting thrusts, Cain was inside of him.

"Oh God, do it, do it, " Abel begged, clutching Cain's straining forearms. "Give it to me, please!"

Cain kissed him again, slanting his mouth against Abel's as he begun pistoning his hips hard and fast. His body was already shaking with impending orgasm. One hand fisted in Abel's hair, his tongue roving deep and demanding in his mouth. Abel's hands scrambled across his back, grabbing his ass and squeezing, hard, and then Cain was gasping, body jerking helplessly as his come flooded hot inside Abel's body. The last pulses left him spent and heavy, heart hammering against Abel's chest.

Abel was left pinned under him, bent almost in two, still with the desperate need to come. He whined, twisting for friction, anything, but then Cain lifted up, snaking a hand down between their bodies to grab his dick. All it took were a few delicously hard tugs, and the soft flick of a tongue inside his ear for Abel to climax, crying out and shuddering with relief.

When reality returned, Cain had slipped out of him, laying on him chest to chest with one leg between his thighs. His breathing had slowed, his face still pressed against Abel's hair and his hand tight on Abel's slim waist. Abel lowered his legs slowly, wincing as the come leaked out of him, and brought his arms up around Cain's back.

His hands moved in slow circles again, feeling Cain's muscles still tight and tense. Abel turned his head just enough to nuzzle against Cain's ear, kissing his hair, while his hands continued their slow caress. In time, Cain's body completely relaxed, his grip on Abel's waist going slack. He was still awake, Abel could tell by the pattern of his breathing, but he didn't pull away. Abel knew Cain would rather cut off his right arm than admit they were cuddling, but that's exactly what they were doing. And, Cain was the one that seemed to need it most.

"You mad I was gone so long?" Cain asked quietly at length.

"No, of course not," Abel said softly. He kissed the side of Cain's head. " I know Deimos is your friend, I've been worried about him too. I feel really bad I didn't come see him, but-"

He stopped when Cain raised up on one elbow to glower at him. "You're babbling, Princess," he said stonily."I'm not cheating on you, for fuck's sake. Quit acting so nervous."

Abel blushed, biting his lip, so Cain came to his rescue with an exasperated sigh.

"Deimos is fine. He should be out of surgery by now. I'd have waited longer, but Porthos was giving me the stink eye the whole time, so I finally took the hint and left." He frowned. " I'll bet my pension those two are screwing. I just can't figure out which one tops."

Abel smiled up at him and tucked one of his turquoise blue streaks of hair behind his ear.

"Maybe they take turns?" he suggested hopefully.

Cain snorted, laughing. "Hah! Nice try."

* * *

They managed a few hours of sleep, then dressed in their fight suits and headed out, stopping first at the sickbay to check on Deimos.

Deimos was out of post op and awake, propped up by three pillows, looking small and pale. There was a multilumen intravenous port on the right side of his bare chest, and a regenerator cast on his left arm.

Porthos was there too, left leg casted almost to the hip, reading from his tablet. He scowled when he spotted Cain.

"You back already?" he asked, annoyed.

Cain ignored him. He laid a hand on Deimos shoulder, smiling when Deimos blinked his eyes sleepily.

"Hey, Myshonok," Cain grinned. "You get enough attention for one day?"

Deimos turned his head, managing a weak smile. He tried to talk, his raspy voice even harder to hear than ususal, and frowned, licking his dry lips.

"Here" Porthos said, leaning over to grab the cup of water by the side of the bed before Cain could. He held the straw gently to Deimos' lips. "Not too much, okay?"

Deimos took a sip greatfully, and Abel had to smile at the tender look that passed between the two of them.

"Jesus," Cain snorted. "Gonna invite us to the wedding?"

"Cain," Abel scolded, but Porthos apparently had this under control, too.

"He's fine, so piss off. He need's anything, I'll take care of it."

Abel bit his lip, waiting for the inevitable explosion as Cain's expression darkened and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Porthos wasn't backing down an inch, however, staring at Cain challengingly. It ought to be an interesting fight, Abel thought. Cain may be the fighter, but Porthos was a lot bigger. Deimos, the wisest of the bunch, had fallen back asleep.

After a few tense seconds, Cain suddenly shrugged. "Whatever. C'mon, Princess, we got places to go and aliens to kill." He turned and stalked out without a backward glance.

Porthos shook his head. "Is he always that much of an asshole?" he asked, when Cain was out of earshot.

"Actually," Abel sighed, "that was Cain being sweet."

* * *

The briefing was in Ward Room one, just off the mess hall. Abel hadn't realized how hungry he was, again,until he smelled the food. His stomach gave an embarrasing growl, and he clamped a hand over it, turning pink. He and Cain made their selections and joined the rest of their flying team, already seated at the banquet table.

Praxis was there, with Athos, talking with the hulking Black-irish Hermes and his Somalian navigator, Pan. Puck, a fey blond with bright pink streaks in his bangs waved to Abel with an excited grin on his pixie like face. On his other side sat Oberon, his fighter, a quiet Haitian with dreadlocks that hung to the middle of his back. Juno was there too, a rather sweet, young fighter who would have been drop dead gorgeous if it wasn't for the hideous scar bisecting the right side of his face. Abel was surprised, he'd spoken to his navigator Callisto, a thin, scholarly man who kept mostly to himself, earlier that day. Abel knew the pair had already been out on patrol .

With Porthos and Deimos out of commision, they were a team short. Abel's heart sunk.

"Princess," Cain asked when they sat down, pointing a fork at Abel's sandwich packet, "what the hell is pib-juh?"

"How come he calls you 'Princess', Abel?" Puck asked , looking from Cain to Abel in fascination.

Hermes elbowed him in the side. " 'Cos 'es sech a big ride," he leered, winking at Abel.

"Too bad your horse is only a pony, you ugly Mick, or Abel might 'roy-ide' you," Cain snarled.

"Feck ya, ye gobshite Gypsy-!"

"Oh, I always wanted a pony," Puck sighed happily. "Hermes, can I ride yours if Abel doesn't want to?"

Pan started to laugh and almost snorted milk out his nose. Puck looked at him and giggled.

Praxis looked at Callisto. "Yo, Brainiac, translation, please?"

" 'Ride' means Abel is handsome," Callisto explained calmy. He paused to take a delicate sip of his tea. "Pony means Hermes has a small penis, and gobshite means Cain is full of shit." He turned his icy grey eyes on Cain. "And it's PBJ, not 'pib-juh.' Peanut butter and jelly. "

"I ain't got a little dick, ya fookin' fairy! " Hermes sputtered, at the same time Cain snarled , "Who's full of shit, bitch!?"

"Abel isn't handsome," Athos sniffed. He turned a fake smile in Abel's direction. "He's purrrrity." He batted his eyelashes cattily, and Abel glared.

Juno grinned, winking at Abel, and stole one of Atho's fries when he wasn't looking. Oberon ignored everyone and continued to methodically demolish his mac and cheese.

"Wow, Cal," Puck said, staring at Callisto with round eyed awe. "How come you're so smart?"

"I'm not," Callisto said cooly. " It's just that you're surrounded by idiots."

"Listen, you little cunt ," Cain yelled, starting to rise. "You call me stupid one more time-!"

"Big Guy's comin' over," Praxis warned. "Siddown and shut up, dumbass."

Abel looked up to see Encke approaching the table. Cain dropped quickly into his seat, and there was a general sitting-up- straight and elbows-off -the- table all around.

"At ease, men," Encke said, eyes flicking over the group. They lingered on Cain a bit longer, Abel noted, and Cain fidgeted until Abel squeezed his knee under the table.

"We fly out at 21:00 hours sharp," he said in his Lieutenant Voice, and Abel could see why Praxis called him'Big Guy'. "I want all of you in the hangar bay in twenty minutes, ready for pre launch protocal." He stared around at them, his eyes hard. "Don't be late."

He glared at Cain and Abel again, completely missing Athos mouthing "Twenty Minutes!" with glee to a poor, red faced Praxis.

"Sir," Pan spoke up, "with Demois and Porthos both injured, will there be a sixth starfighter going out with us?"

Encke nodded curtly. "The _Scythe_ will be taking their place," he said.

Abel's eyes went round. He'd never flown alongside the_ Sleipnir's _two Lead fliers. He didn't realize he was trembling until Cain squeezed his knee under the table.

"Alright, let's get things underway!" Encke barked, and the group started to rise, clearing away the debris from their meal.

"As you were."

They turned, to see Keeler, sleek as a runway model in his flightsuit, stride briskly into the room. "Lieutenant," he addressed Encke, "I need a word with you in private, please." He didn't look happy.

Encke frowned, but followed Keeler to the other side of the room, where they proceeded to have a rather intense, hushed conversation. Abel had a new respect for Keeler; if Encke had gotten in his face like that, he'd have peed himself. Keeler's pale face turned pink but he stood his ground, arms crossed over his slender chest. The group around the table sat awkwardly silent.

"Ooo, what are they saying?" Athos hissed under his breath. He looked avidly towards the pair.

"Be a little more obvious while you're at it," Abel muttered.

"Oh, like you aren't listening too," Athos sniffed.

"This is nothing," Puck scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "I've heard some fights that were a real doozy between them coming from Keeler's office. But then they get really quiet for a long time," he whispered, munching on his potatoe chips.

"G' wan?" Hermes asked impatiently.

Oberon, who'd stayed silent the entire time, directed a pointed look at his flying partner. Puck made a face, but answered , "Nevermind."

"Yo, incoming," Praxis said under his breath, and Abel watched as both Keeler and Encke returned to the table. Now neither looked happy.

"Change in plans, gentlemen," Encke said curtly. "There's an ion storm that will directly cross our flight path at 21:25 hours. Launch is scrubbed until it passes."

A mixture of relief and impatience ran around the table. Abel felt the knot in his stomach clench tight again. He hated this constant 'hurry up and wait' during missions, but it was part of military life. Not one of his favorite parts, though.

"Sir," he was surprised to hear Cain speak up next to him. "Can't we alter course, and bypass the storm ? "

Encke looked sidelong at Keeler, who set his jaw and refused to meet his eyes. Evidently this had been part of their discussion.

"No," Keeler aswered Cain. "It could work, in theory, but the odds against one or all of us running out of fuel are too high. We might not make it back in safely."

Or at all, Abel knew he wasn't saying.

"Even with the new engine prototype we've been working on?" Abel asked, and then blushed and hastily added, "Sir?"

"Oi'd be willin' to chance it tae kick some 'teron arse,Lieutenant," Hermes put in cheekily, and a ripple of assent ran around the table.

It died out, however, when Hermes saw the frigid glare Keeler gave him.

"I'm sorry I haven't made myself clear," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "This is not a debate. We stay, until the storm passes, and flying condiditons are safe. Abel," he turned towards Abel, voice still firm but expression softened."It's an excellent suggestion, but we can't use the engine until it's fully tested. Cook's orders."

He seemed to know what was on the tip of Abel's tongue, for he added, "And Commander Cook made it clear we will not risk any more lives by using untested methods while engaged with the enemy."

"Sir," Juno spoke up, "is there an estimate on when the storm will clear?"

Encke shook his head. "Nothing definite. Could be an hour, could be three. Until then, we wait."

"Here? Sir?" Athos asked, directing his question to Keeler.

Keeler crossed his arms over his chest again and raised a pale eyebrow at Encke, and Abel understood what the other half of their fight was about.

"Here," Encke said. "All of us. " He looked around as if expecting more debate. "For as long as it takes."

* * *

The first hour passed fairly quickly. It was sort of like being on the obs deck again; just with tables and chairs and less smell. The group spent the time reviewing flight plans and flying formations with both senior officers. Keeler kept watching for updates on the storm from the bridge, but it was showing no signs of abating.

* * *

They ate a bit more, dozed, split into groups to smoke or talk. Most of the bickering was harmless now, with the prescence of the two officers, but Abel could sense that boredom and restlessness were setting in. Cain, Hermes and Juno sat idly smoking at the furthest end of the room. Oberon was stretched out napping contentedly and Keeler and Encke seemed to have disappeared for the moment. Nature called and Abel got up to go look for the head.

He rounded the corridor and came up short. Keeler and Encke stood close together, quietly talking. Keeler's arms were around Encke's neck, while Encke's large hands spanned either side of Keeler's waist. They kissed softly, unaware of Abel's prescence and he felt a flush of embarrassment at intruding on this private moment.

When he came back to the room, he saw Athos, Puck and Callisto all gathered together, chatting over coffee. Athos was talking and gesturing animatedly, holding his hands out about ten or twelve inches appart. Puck's jaw dropped, and even Callisto looked impressed. As a group they turned to stare at poor Praxis, who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly while hanging his head, face on fire.

"Where did Hermes go?" Abel asked, when Cain walked up to him. Juno was the only one now left smoking.

"Who cares?" Cain snorted. He cocked his head, his exotically dark eyes peering at Abel. "Where'd you go, Princess? I look up, and all the pretty girls are gone."

"I went to use the bathroom," Abel huffed, discretely removing Cain's wandering hand.

"Damn! Why didn't I think of that?" he glared at Abel. "Why didn't you tell me, we could've gone together and had a quickie?"

"Only 'girls' go to the bathroom together, Cain," Abel retorted, rolling his eyes.

Cain 'tched and looked around the room, frowning. "Where's Beauty and the Beast? Let's see if they'll let us take a break."

"Out in the hallway, making up from their fight."

"Making up?" Cain grinned, "or making out?"

"Cain, do you ever think of anything but sex?" Abel sighed. He started to move around Cain to join the other navigators, but stopped when Cain caught his arm. Cains other hand cupped his cheek lightly, tipping his chin up.

"Not when I've got something this pretty standing next to me," he said softly, thumb brushing Abel's scar. "Especially when we're all going out to die."

Abel felt his heart squeeze, blushing. He laid a hand on Cain's chest, moving closer.

"For God's sake," Juno muttered in disgust as he walked past them. "Get a room, you two."

* * *

Hermes, it turned out, had run back to his quarters to get a deck of cards.

"Ante oop, lads!" he cried, dropping into his seat. " 'Oos in for a bit o' poker?"

"Dude, you rock," Juno smiled, high-fiving him. "Hey, Cal" he hollered to his navigator, "come on over and deal."

Cain, Hermes, Oberon, and Juno all knew how to play. The rest just wanted to watch.

"When do we get to the part where everyone starts taking off their clothes?" Athos asked, staring at Juno and Oberon with a big smile on his face.

"Hose him down, will ya?" Cain muttered to Praxis. Abel was surprised when both Praxis and Athos turned scarlet this time, and wouldn't look at each other.

"We have to take off our clothes?" Puck squeeked nervously. "Oh gosh why didn't you tell us that first, Hermes! You guys are all going to make fun of my tattoo!"

"Now woi's that, lad?" Hermes asked interestedly. "Got it where the sun don't shine, do ye?"

"This isn't strip poker, Athos," Callisto explained, making Athos pout. Puck sighed in relief.

"We need a fifth." Cain looked from face to face. "Any of you other girls know how to play?"

There were shrugs and murmurings until Abel admitted, "I do, but, um, it's been a long time."

"Hee hee, 'appy day!" crowed Hermes.

"What are the stakes?" Juno asked, as Callisto began to deal.

"If Oberon loses he has to tell what Puck's got tattooed on his ass," Cain said.

"When I win, I get tae french Princess, " Hermes leered.

Cain shot daggers at him, and Oberon laughed.

The doors hissed open again and Encke and Keeler rejoined them. Callisto raised an eyebrow but Keeler waved him off with a sigh.

"Go on, play. This damn storm is taking it's sweet time moving off. Looks like we'll be here at least another hour." Keeler walked slumped shouldered away from the group, curling up in a chair by a far table and laying his head on his arms.

"Oh," Puck bit his lip, and stood. "I'm going to sit with Keeler awhile. That okay, sweetie?" he asked Oberon.

"Oui, go, cheri," he smiled, all white teeth, and Puck scampered off to where Keeler sat. Abel looked at Oberon dreamily. He could have listened to that gorgeous accent all day. Too bad Oberon rarely talked.

"Sir?" Pan asked, rising and offering Encke his chair, but Encke held up a hand and pulled over another chair straddling it backwards to watch the game.

"Naw, I'm good, son; you boys play."

"Alright gentlemen," Callisto intoned. "Place your bets."

* * *

After an hour only two remained : Hermes, and, to his dismay, Abel. Puck had rejoined the group when Encke wandered over to sit with Keeler. Keeler appeared to be asleep, cradled in Encke's arms on one of the benches along the wall. Athos was in Praxis lap, both watching the two remaing players avidly.

Pan, Juno and Callisto sat at a nearby table, talking and joking quietly while they updated their ID chips. The last two starfighters, from Deimos' patrol, had been so badly damaged they were nearly impossible to identify, along with their crew. Bering had impressed upon all of them the importance of keeping their ID's with them and updated at all times. It made a lot of extra work for the forensics teams otherwise.

Oberon was dozing again stretched out on the floor with his head in Puck's lap. Puck was playing with his hair, and as always, talking.

"So, which hand is the best?" he asked brightly.

"The hand that's jerking me off," Cain answered drily, and Puck turned pink and giggled.

Abel squirmed in his seat, nudging Cain with his elbow. For the past twenty minutes Cain had been sitting behind him, chin on his shoulder and innocently breathing on his neck. It was distracting to say the least. Almost as bad as Hermes, who sat across from him slowly running his tongue over his lips, his barbell piercing shiny with spit.

Abel knew full well what Hermes wanted to do with that tongue. He knew there was no chance in hell Cain would ever let Hermes near him, let alone kiss him. Still, Abel desperately wanted to win, but for reasons of his own.

"Gi' ower, Pet," Hermes grinned. "Ye can't beat wot I got in me hand."

"The only thing your hand's ever beaten is your dick," Cain said mildly. Across the room, Abel could see Encke quietly laugh.

Hermes ignored them both . "Right, then, here we go," he said, and laid out his cards one by one with a flourish.

"Whoa," Praxis whistled, and Cain began to swear. Athos snickered nastily and Puck begged, "Oh, what is it? What does he have, tell me!"

Pan had wandered over when Hermes laid out his cards. "Ouch," he winced, shaking his head ruefully. "Better pucker up, Abel."

"Over my dead body," Cain snarled.

Abel darted frantic glances at Hermes, the cards, and at Pan, who was shaking his head in sympathy. Hermes had all four Aces, and a Queen. Abel started to sweat. The last time he'd played poker, he was seventeen, and more than a little drunk. He had no idea if his hand would beat four of a kind.

"Okay," he said nervously. "These are mine." He laid them out slowly, holding his breath, heart beating hard in his chest. Cain's hand by now had a vise grip on his thigh.

"Seven," he began, "Eight, Nine, Ten, Jack." They were all hearts, but he couldn't remember for the life of him if that mattered or not. He bit his lip, taking a deep breath to look up, and then Praxis, seated on the left of Hermes, began to laugh.

"Shite!" Hermes yelled, while poor Puck wailed "Pan! What is it? Who won? Oh please tell me, I'm dying over here!"

"Abel won," Pan grinned, looking at Abel in amazement. "Damn, Abel, a freakin' straight; who'da thought?"

"Abel's not straight," Athos muttered under his breath.

"Says the tramp lap-dancing Cyclops," Cain retorted, and yelped when Praxis kicked him. He flipped Hermes off. "Kiss that, loser!"

Hermes was looking like his best friend had died. Abel almost felt sorry for him. Just not enough to kiss him.

"So, what did you win, Abel?" Praxis asked.

Abel bit his lip. "Can I have these?" he asked Hermes, laying his hand on the deck of cards. "I wanted to give them to Deimos, so he can have something to do while he recuperates."

"Well aren't you a doll, Princess," Cain purred, planting a sloppy kiss on Abel's cheek. He laughed, ducking when Abel swatted him.

"Aye, g'wan, tek 'em, I'll never play again,"Hermes said miserably, waving a hand at the deck.

"Oh don't be sad, Hermes; I'll kiss you," Athos offered sweetly. He leaned over, still seated on Praxis' lap, placed his hands on either side of Hermes' stunned face, and planted one right on his mouth. Behind them, Keeler, who was awake, thanks to Puck's wailings, blanched and pretended to gag.

Cain glared at Praxis, who watched the proceedings slack jawed. "Aren't you going to stop them?!" he demanded.

Praxis smiled, and held Athos snugly against his lap. He looked like he was really enjoying the show. "Nope!''

Abel stood up to catch Keeler's eye. "Sir, do I have enough time to take these to Deimos in sickbay?"

Keeler smiled fondly. "Of course, Abel; that's very sweet of you."

Cain popped up behind him "Sir,can I-?"

"No," Encke said, at the same time Keeler said "Yes." The two shared a look, and then Encke sighed in defeat.

"Fifteen minutes," he ordered," not one second more." He smiled evilly at Cain."Or I'll make_ you _kiss Hermes when you get back."

* * *

"Boy, has Blondie got him whipped, or what?" Cain remarked as soon as they left the room.

"Looks like it," Abel agreed as he hurried toward the lift. " Come on! Don't think he won't make you do what he just said," Abel said with a shudder.

"Hah!" Cain laughed, "He'll have to peel Athos offa Hermes first!"

* * *

The doors to the lift had barely shut and Cain had him pressed to the wall, tongue in his mouth. Abel responded with a helpless moan, a little appalled that he was this turned on by watching Athos kiss anyone.

Cain pulled back long enough to press stop. "Wanna do it?" he panted.

"Are you kidding?" Abel gaped at him. "We don't have time, Encke will kill you, kill us if we're-!"

Cain cut him off with another scorching kiss. And then a third. By the time he'd started on the fourth, Abel was almost climbing him.

"This is gonna be a fast one, baby," Cain warned him, undoing the crotch of his suit. "I'm so fuckin' horny," he groaned, "goddamn, do you have any idea how long I've wanted to fuck you in our suits?"

Abel shook his head, gasping as Cain shoved him to his hands and knees on the carpeted floor of the lift. "We don't-we don't have any lube,"he panted, but Cain just laughed, low and dirty and Abel's whole body shivered.

"Sure we do," Cain growled, kneeling behind him. Before Abel could think, Cain had both hands on his ass, pulling his cheeks appart, and his mouth pressed to Abel's hole.

"Ahhhhhh ah!" Abel wailed, his balls pulling tight. He squirmed against the delicious torment, his overloaded senses not sure if he was trying to get away, or push back for more. "Oooh! Wha-What are you doing?! Oh! OH! Please ohgodohgod ohgod, Cain, please!"

Cain mounted him, Abel heard him spit in his hand and slick him self, and then he was pushing inside. Abel was still loose from their previous fuck, thank God, because Cain wasn't holding anything back. He cried out and shook, braced on his forearms, until Cain shoved him down again, face to the floor and hand on the back of his neck. Abel had never been louder or more turned on in his life, and with a scream of ecstasy he came. Not once had his dick even been touched.

Cain cried out, "Fuck Princess, Fuck!" as he started to come. He pulled out quickly, Abel gave a startled yelp as one hot jet striped his ass. Cain hunched over and groaned as he shot the last pulses all over the floor.

"I don't suppose," Abel panted weakly, " you, um, grabbed any-?"

A crumpled napkin landed by his hand. He blinked in surprise, still a little dazed.

" Wow," Abel said, unfolding it to wipe the come off his butt. "You think of everything."

* * *

Neither could think of a plausible excuse to tell Encke, though, when they were two minutes late. Luckily for Cain ( and an anxious Hermes ), Keeler talked Encke out of the punishment , saying it would make him violently ill.

"You," Encke growled, towering over Cain, with a finger jabbed hard in his chest, " and I, are going to have a little chat when we get back from this mission, son."

"Dude, chill," Juno whispered in Cain's ear, when Encke stalked off. "Maybe you'll get lucky, and the 'Terons'll kill you instead."

* * *

And then, at almost 00:00, hours, it was time

* * *

It will become like breathing, his instructor had assured the class of thirty-five, starry eyed young men, when Abel had gone to the Academy so long ago. In actuality, Abel mused, sitting in the_ Reliant's _cockpit and running throught the pre-launch check with Cain, it had only been eighteen months since he had graduated. Twenty-odd missions flown, almost six months, partnered with Cain. War aged young men quickly, though, but Abel counted himself lucky. Of his graduating class of thirty-five, only twenty-nine were still alive.

"...Ignition: Off, check; fuel gauges at maximum: check..."

"Abel, check the seal; there, on the left of the hatch, is that-?"

"Ah, I see it; wait a sec, Cain." Abel quickly ran through an structural integrity diagnostic but the_ Reliant _was sound; ran an internal check on all seals but everything came back "-negative on that, Cain, she's all locked down tight, good eye though it did look a bit iffy at first."

Cain's laugh crackled back over the comm. "Just the way I like my girl; tight as a virgin on her wedding night!"

Abel allowed a brief smile, his face flushing warm. He'd often wondered if Cain had ever had sex with a woman or not. Abel always assumed he had...This was hardly the time or place to ask, though, the comm link buzzing with the rest of their squadron checking in.

He picked up bits and pieces, Callisto's precise tones from the_ Veyron_, Pan and Hermes trading positively filthy jokes on the_ Roc_. Abel would never have used such language, knowing Keeler was listening, until Puck confided to him once that Keeler had a complete sailor's vocabulary, "But only when he's really, really mad, or on the rag."

They all had routines, and stress relievers, that gave them hope they might return to the _Sleipnir_ alive. Abel had watched Oberon crossing himself; forehead, lips and heart, before mounting the steps to the _Da Vinci_ . Athos wore the helmet that had belonged to his older brother before he had been killed. Cain, Abel secretly noted, swiped the index and middle fingers of his left hand along the hatch each time he exited or entered their ship. Even the time they'd had sex in it, he smiled.

_" Scythe _to all ships," Keeler's voice rang out over the comm. " Confirm pre-launch status."

"_Tiberius _all systems go, sir !" Athos replied.

"_Da Vinci _ready for take off, Lieutenant!" Puck's excited rang out .

_" Veyron _secured, sir." Cal reporting in; Abel could only hope he sounded as confident someday.

"_Reliant _ready to launch, sir!" Abel said smartly and behind him Cain muttered "fuck yeah!"

"_Roc_ ready for launch, Lieutenant Keeler, sir!" Pan called.

Abel felt the adrenaline start to kick in, as Keeler's voice ran through their pre flight protocal. Ignition, on; full power to engine and shields; all craft move into launch position; prepare for take off in 90 seconds.

"All personnel," the ground commander announced over the intercom, "hangar bay preparing for launch in 90 seconds, all personnel please evacuate for bay door opening in 90 seconds; repeat, all personnel evacuate to safe zones for bay door opening in 90, 89, 88..."

Abel heard Cain securing his seat harness as he powered on the engines and the_ Reliant _thrummed with power. It came as an almost visceral shock to Abel each time, how he felt his body become one with this machine. His slender black gloved fingers traced over the navigational orb as the ship rotated slowly to face the bay doors nose _ Scythe _was at the lead with the other ships surrounding it in a staggered hex formation. Cain and Abel's ship brought up the rear.

"All hands, secure," the deck commader announced, "Bay doors opening in 11, 10, 9, 8, 7..."

Before them the enourmous doors of the bay parted and the black of space revealed itself meter by meter. Abel's heart was pumping now as the whole deck sang with power, vibrating up through his body from the soles of his boots to the top of his head. In just a few seconds he'd be out there again, in the cold star-strewn black, with nothing to protect him but a fragile shell of titanium and circuits, the capability of the man behind him, and the skill in his own two hands.

"...3, 2, 1, 0, lift off..."

There was no place in the universe he'd rather be.

On a streak of light the ships leapt from the _Sleipinir_, sleek and deadly as the Orca moving in packs through the oceans of Earth. Keeler called out commands in rapid fire succession and it was poetry to watch the other ships execute them one by one.

"Approaching coordinates vector four-zero-seven," Keeler said over the comm. "All ships approach with caution."

"Sensors at negative, no enemy vessels within sensor range, sir," Puck said, and a half second later Pan relayed the same.

The asteroid was coming up fast on Abel's screen and he adjusted the_ Reliant's _velocity even as Keeler was calling out for the rest of the squadron to do the same. It was just another ugly, non-descript little rock, like a billion others sprinkled across the void but Abel knew how misleading appearnces could be. Behind him he could hear Cain, talking over the defense link with Encke.

"Establish perimeter defense," Keeler commanded. The_ Reliant, Veyron, Da Vinci _and _Tiberious _fanned out in a diamond formation around the asteroid. As one, the _Scythe _and_ Roc _began a slow, sweeping approach in.

"Fuel signatures negative on all sensors, radiation levels normal," Pan said as he scanned the asteroid and it's surrounding space. "Solar flare off port, 1.6 light years out but I've got nothing, nothing, sir."

"Increase magnification to 50%."

A pause. "Aye, sir, still nothing ."

There was silence from the lead vessel and Abel could almost see Encke and Keeler arguing.

"Increase to 75%."

Abel held his breath, and Cain muttered, "might as well flash the lights and honk the horn while you're at it, Blondie."

"Sensors negative, sir," Pan's said. Abel sensed the edge of tension in his fellow navigator's voice.

Come on, come on, Abel prayed. The longer they swirled around this worthless little pebble the better their chances were of being ambushed. He knew what Keeler was doing; playing for time. If this was a fuel-supply base, as intelligence had promised, it's destuction would be crucial in tipping the balance of power in the war. Blasting it to pieces for no reason was akin to throwing rocks at a hornets nest. Keeler was nothing if not thorough, often to the point of being annoyingly anal.

"Increase to 85%," Keeler called, and there was a split second burst of angry shouting before the link from the lead ship closed.

"Increasing to 85% sir," Pan replied. Abel could hear the strain in his voice and his heart started to hammer-

"Confirmed readings on longitude 30 degrees, sir!" Pan cried out triumphantly and Keeler's voice, strong and clear, "_ Scythe _locking onto coordinates,all vessels move to safe distance, prepare for fire!"

Encke burried two torpedoes into the asteroid on twin streaks of light as the squadron all swung out to avoid the blast radius. A few chunks of debris bounced harmlessly off the _Reliant's _shields annd then there was nothing, just a cloud of dust swimming in a hallucinogenic mist of vaporized fuel.

"All vessels fall back," Keeler's voice called out and Abel could hear Encke whooping with glee behind him. "Return to base, maintain alert status for enemy-"

"Incoming vessels approaching on zero-seven-one," he heard a voice saying calmly, as if it hadn't just announced all of their deaths. "Four vessels on bearing zero-seven-one, repeat, enemy vessels approaching-"

He had no idea at the time it was his own voice, his own eyes that had spotted the 'Teron ships first. Abel's brain switched to automatic as instinct and training over rode terror. Just like breathing, in, out, defense plan delta tapping across the Reliant's navigational orb without him even having to think.

"Prepare to fire!" Keeler's voice rang out. "All vessels lock onto enemy targets and fire at will!"

"C'mon you mother fuckers!" Cain was laughing behind Abel, finally released from inactivity and itching to kill. His skilled hands squeezed off shot after shot, each hitting it's mark in a silent burst of white hot light. "Die, bitches, die!"

A 'Teron ship swung across their path and Abel swore, banking them sharply port. He hung crazily in his harness before he righted the craft a split second later. A sickening impact spun them 180 degrees and Abel felt a momentary loss of the ships g-force, his stomach threatening to heave before the override kicked in and he was slammed back in his seat. Cain swore copiously behind him in at least three languages and Abel heard him gasping in pain. Alarms sounded all around Abel and a hiss of steam blasted next to his head.

Then the _Tiberius_ was soaring through a blast cloud where a 'Teron ship had been and Athos was screaming _"Reliant_,_ Tiberius _to_ Reliant_, Abel! Answer me!"

"Damage report!" Abel barked over his shoulder as he signaled the _Tiberius_ they were still alive. "Cain, reroute power to the shields and engine four, I think we lost number two. "

Silence from the seat behind him, and Abel's heart dropped to his boots.

"Cain, report!" he cried, panic overriding everything he'd been taught. "Cain! CAIN!"

"-Here, I'm here! Godammit Abel my fucking comm link blew, quit crying and get us the fuck out of here!"

"I'm not," Abel sobbed, furious and relieved ."You son of a bitch you scared me-!"

"Stop, baby, I'm not goin' anywhere," Cain said firmly. "Just calm down. Those fuckers took out our second engine and we lost fuel but we've got enough to get us in. You're gonna have to give me some firepower-"

"No!" Abel shouted, over the jumble of voices and shouted orders from the comm. "If I do our life support is fried!"

A blast of light exploded across his retinas and for an instant he thought, we're hit, we're dead, but then the starfield returned, and behind him, Cain gave a cry of rage and grief.

_"Roc_, report!" Cain pounded on the comm link as Hermes and Pan's ship- what was left of it- tilted at a sickening angle and spit coolant from it's ruined engines. "Answer me, you mother fucking Mick, answer me!"

"Shields to maximum, _Reliant, Veyron, Tiberius _trianulate on the _Roc_," Keeler demanded over the link, his voice laced with rage and grief. "Emergency transport formation, now!"

Abel's shaking hands could barely lay in the coordinates, his eyes stinging with sweat and tears, and the_ Reliant's _leaking coolant making him gasp and cough. They were trapped in there, Hermes, and Pan, and Abel saw bones, jagged ends shoved through skin and muscle and someone screaming, screaming-"

"Enemy ships to starboard," Puck warned, and then the_ Da Vinci _and _Scythe_ were moving as one in a streak of hellfire, the last two 'Teron ships bearing down on them. And Abel could see Keeler's plan, these two ships sacrificed for the rest of them, and he was shouting to Cain help them, we have to help them-

"Abel, no!" Cain shouted. "Hold position, do not engage!"

"We have to!" Abel cried, "They'll never make it, Cain, we're close enough!"

And then the_ Scthye _banked, it's angle making Abel's gut clench in horror and the enemy ships streaked past, swallowing Oberon's torpedos as the _Da Vinci _opened fire, one, two, three...

"Targets neutralized!" Oberons beautiful shout made Abel want to weep.

"All vessels, return to base, " Keeler's voice rang out, pained and laced with grief. :Oberon; take us home."

* * *

Pan was dead, killed instantly when the navigator's console imploded and his chest was crushed. Hermes was not so lucky.

"Mama!" he screamed, over and over as the emergency team in the _Sleipnir's_ hangar bay tried in vain to extricate him from what was left of the_ Roc_. "Ma-Mama! Mama!"

Abel watched, numb, each scream cutting through him like a knife. If Cain hadn't been holding him he probably would have been like Puck, hysterical and taken forcefully to sickbay by Oberon and Juno. Callisto stood with Athos clinging tight to his arm and Praxis grimly holding both of them.

Keeler and Encke were with the crew trying to cut Hermes out of the ship. Hermes had been sedated by the medics but he still screamed, broken hitching sobs that finally brought Abel to the hangar bay deck on his knees. He wondered if he would scream for his mother, too, when it was his turn.

Cain knelt behind him, wrapping him in his arms and keeping Abel from flying appart, flying into a million pieces like the 'Teron ships and the ugly little ateroid full of fuel. By the time the crew had Hermes freed and stretchered to the deck it was obvious he was beyond help. Abel's teeth started to chatter and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"Liam," Encke said as he bent over Hermes, holding his hand. "Liam, hey, son, it's alright, it's alright, son. We're here. You ain't alone, baby, we're all here."

Abel watched as Keeler knelt by Hermes other side, his beautiful hands stroking Hermes' bloodied face. "Let go, Liam, it's alright. Don't fight anymore. Let go." Behind them, Athos choked on a sob and buried his face against Praxis' chest.

Hermes gasped for breath, his eyes huge in his chalk white face. He looked at Encke, struggling to focus. "P-Pan?" he gasped.

Encke smiled and a tear rolled down each side of his face. "He's waitin' for you, baby. You'll see him soon."

"I love ye, " Hermes said, voice clear and then, turning to Keeler, "I love ye. I love ye all. Tell me Mam...tell her..."

Cain crushed Abel to him then, rocking him in his arms as Abel cried.

* * *

It wasn't the last mission, or the last fatality by any means. They flew out again, just a few days after the memorial service for Hermes and Pan and three others that had been lost in subsequent battles. Abel was twenty-four years old, had been at war for only half a year and had already lost a number of friends. But he had never seen one die before his eyes.

Cain was subdued as well, spending long hours holding Abel against him in the darkness of the quarters at night. Abel couldn't sleep any other way, plagued by night mares of being trapped in a house with no way out while some one screamed for help outside. Cain dragged him to sickbay when he'd woken up sobbing for the third time, and gotten him a bottle of sleeping pills.

The only comfort was that Deimos was getting stronger, out of sickbay and recuperating in his room. Abel stopped by to see him one day after dinner, while Cain was still on duty.

"It hasn't been too bad," Deimos said in his quiet voice. "Porthos has been very nice. I couldn't have gotten throught his without him." He smiled shyly, and Abel smiled with him, pleased to see Deimos happy at last. It made him feel less guilty about being with Cain.

"That's great Deimos," he said. "I hope you haven't been too bored. "

"Oh no, " Deimos assured him. "These have really helped. " He reached under his bunk and pulled out the deck of cards Abel had given him a little over a week ago. "Porthos is trying to teach me poker, but I'm not very good at it yet. Is it okay if we keep these a little bit longer?"

"Sure," Abel nodded, smiling sadly. "I'm sure Hermes would have liked that, knowing that his cards were making someone else happy."

When Deimos started to look tired, Abel said goodbye and told him he'd see him tomorrow. Deimos was very sweet; some of the fighter's were. He would have made a good navigator, too.

* * *

Abel had the lift to himself . "Level three", he said with a tired yawn. Keeler had them working overtime on the new engine and between that and his broken sleep, he felt like a zombie.

The lift paused it's descent on Level six and a group of officers joined him, along with Commader Cook. Abel straightened to attention but Cook held a up his hand.

"At ease, navigator," he smiled. "Keeler tells me the prototype should be ready for another simulation test in a few more days, is that so?"

"Yes, sir," Abel replied. "We hope to have it ready by Wednesday at the latest, sir."

"Excellent," Cook's smile grew, all perfect white teeth in his chisled face. He began to explain the protoype to Lieutenant Commander Fletcher and his assistants and Abel listened politely, trying not to yawn. Cook was a handsome, charismatic man who always carried himself with class and grace. Abels eyes flitted from Cook's sleek white blond hair to his spotless uniform to the tips of his boots, feeling like a bit of a slob as he always did in the man's prescence.

Cook shifted his feet while making a point, and Abel almost choked. This was the lift he and Cain had had sex in the day of their horrific mission, licking and rutting like animals and Abel howling like a bitch in heat. Abel felt the color drain out of his face because any moment now, Cook was going to look at him and tell him how disappointed he was, how it had all been picked up on the security cameras and Abel was no longer fit to serve under him.

Abel's heart started to race and a cold sweat broke out on his clammy skin. Hurry, please hurry, he begged the lift silently. A wave of nausea swept him and he prayed he wouldn't be sick, all over Cook's beautiful pale hands that were stroking Hermes' bloody face...

Cook smiled back at him and said goodbye as the lift blessedly stopped and he and his group departed. Abel managed a proper nod but he couldn't hear if he'd said anything aloud. His hearing was muffled, as if he was wrapped in layers of cotton and ruined titanium and coolant saturated wire.

He stayed on his feet until the lift brought him to his floor, but the corridor was grey, closing in on him as his vision started to tunnel. By the time he'd gottten to the room he and Cain shared he was wringing wet with sweat, his knees giving out to drop him onto their bed . Don't throw up, he gasped, closing his eyes while his heart raced and his body trembled uncontrollably.

It passed, while he fought for breath and prayed Cain would come back to fuck him, no, take care of him and hold him so he wouldn't scream for his mother and make Encke cry. He stretched his legs out from his cramped position, swallowing back a rise of bile when he saw bones thrust hrough his shins. He waited for the pain in abject terror; if he moved, they'd break into a million pieces of debris and blood and pretty colored pink streaks in Puck's hair...

He whimpered, "Cain, please," while tears tracked down his face. "Please help me, please."

Sleep, he needed to sleep and when he woke up, everything would be alright. The bottle of sleeping pills was where he'd left it and he opened it after the third try, his fingers slippery with sweat and numb from hyperventilating.

"Make it stop," he sobbed, but Cain wasn't answering him because he was sitting behind him in his harness broken and dead. The black of space was pouring through the ruptured seal in the hatch, drowning Abel, and he swallowed, one after the other, inhaling it all as it sent him to sleep, blissful peaceful sleep-

"Abel."

Cain was sitting across from him on the mattress, still in his uniform. His face wore a carefully neutral expression and his beautiful, black eyes were calm; it was the face Abel saw when Cain loved him and wasn't going to yell at him.

"How many of those have you taken, Abel?" Cain asked quietly.

Abel followed Cain's eyes to his hand, where a handful of sleeping pills were crushed against his palm. More spilled out across the ugly grey mattresses, but it didn't matter because Cain had put them there, put the mattresses together because he loved him. He would put Abel back together, too.

"Let me have the bottle, baby," Cain coaxed, holding out his hand. Abel couldn't refuse him because Cain was so beautiful and would take care of everything. He stretched his shakey hand out and Cain's fingers closed around it, around the bottle and the half melted tablets and he gave Abel a small smile.

"That's good, baby," Cain praised him and Abel saw him quickly count the remaining pills.

"I-I want-" Abel said, voice hitching with broken sobs, "I want to g-go home Cain. Please," he wept, face crumpled in misery, arms hugging himself. "I can't do this anymore...I-I want to go home!"

Cain looked from the bottle to Abel, face closed, frowning. "There's ten mising," he said . He set the bottle down and carefully took Abel's face in his hands, peering at his eyes and watching him breathe. "Think, Abel; how many did you take? "

"I-I don't-I " Abel tried, he tried so hard but Cain was so close; so dark and strong and beautiful and Abel was so tired he couldn't think. "N-n-"

"Nine?!" Cain said in disbelief. "Abel, fuck-!"

"None!" Abel lied, his vision starting to blur. "I di-didn't take any, I don' think-?"

Cain shoved away from him, scrabbling through the bottom drawer of the locker next to their bed .

"Fuck!" He swore, "Where the fuck is the goddamn first aid kit?!"

"Don' be mad!" Abel sobbed, cringing away from him, oh, why did he have to ruin everything and make Cain angry? "I didn' ta' any, please, Cain, I swuh-!"

All the rooms had a first aid kit with basic supplies, in case the ship was damaged or a quarrentine kept the crew from getting to sickbay. Cain finally found the kit, tore it open and grabbed a small single dose plastic ampule of antiemetic. He ripped the top off and shoved the stem between Abel's lips.

"Drink," he ordered but it was bitter and Abel turned his face away.

"I don-don' nee-need tha-" Abel slurred, Cain's panicked face swimming in and out of focus.

Cain grabbed his jaw, hard, and Abel cried out because it hurt and then Cain shoved his fingers in, making Abel gag and squeezed the horrible liquid onto Abel's tongue.

"Swallow it !" Cain yelled into his face. "Abel, Abel, stay with me, please baby!"

Abel coughed and grimaced , so heavy, his eyes so heavy he couldn't keep them open.

"Lo-love..." he murmured..."love y-"

"Abel!" Cain voice broke but Abel must be imagining it; Cain never cried. Cain slapped his face and shook him like a rag doll. "Abel! Don't leave me! Wake up! Abel! Ethan, ETHAN!"

Abel opened his eyes, his vision clearing with shock and then he must have retched because Cain was hauling him bodily to the john and hanging his head over the toliet. He vomited, everything from lunch and dinner and the coca-cola he and Deimos had shared.

And eight sleeping pills; six still in their capsules, one broken, one half disolved.

"Get it out, baby, it's gonna be okay, now," Cain said brokenly, holding Abel's bangs out of his face as he retched and retched. "You're gonna be okay now, Princess, just get it out, you're gonna be okay."

"I'm sorry!" Abel sobbed, "Cain, I-"

"I know baby," Cain said, and he was crying too. "I know."

* * *

When Abel awoke later he was alone. Disoriented and still shaky, he tried to stumble to the shower but gave up when he nearly fell. He lay down on the mattresses again, and fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

Hours later, when he woke, Cain was with him, his strong body bare and curled behind him. One hand was tucked under Abel's chin, and Abel drew it away and kissed Cain's fingers one by one. He opened the hand gently and tucked Cain's palm under his cheek before falling asleep again.

"Abel? Room service; wake up, Princess."

Abel took a deep breath, inhaling the impossible scent of a toasted cranberry bagel. I must still be dreaming, he thought, opening his eyes.

Cain was sitting propped up against the wall, chest bare and probably still naked underneath their flimsy blanket. Crumbs speckled his muscular torso as he chewed a mouthful of bagel, giving Abel a cheeky grin.

"Hah! You should see what your hair looks like!"

"Where did you get that?" Abel asked, wondering if Cain had gone down to the mess buck naked.

"Supply ship came in last night," Cain explained, brushing the crumbs off onto Abel's side of the bed. "Got you one too, lazy-ass. " He tossed a brown paper bag in Abel's lap. God in heaven, it was still warm too.

Cain watched Abel eat, finishing his own food silently. By the time the carton of milk they shared was gone, Abel felt halfway human again.

He also felt Cain's eyes boring a hole through him.

"Um," Abel hesitated, biting his lip. "I should probably get a shower. I have to go on duty soon."

Cain snorted, rolling his eyes. "Look at the clock, sleeping beauty."

Abel did, doing a double take. "Eleven!" he started to panic. "I'm four hours late-!"

"Relax, Princess, you got the day off. Or, rather, I got you the day off."

Abel looked at him, eyes huge. "Did you tell?"

Cain gave a short, humorless laugh. "Sure, everyone knows; Cook, Bering, Blondie and the Asshole. They all send their condolences, and Athos is coming over later with soup and a blowjob."By the time he was finished talking, he looked furious.

Abel bit his lip, but Cain wasn't through with him yet.

"You really want to go home, Abel?" he asked curtly.

And leave you? Abel thought. "No", he answered quietly.

"Well then I suggest you keep your big mouth shut too. I covered for your ass, you're welcome, by the way. Blondie just thinks you're 'under the weather' and said for you to report back in when you're 'feeling up to it' ." He finished the last with a fairly good imitation of Keeler's high, lilting voice.

Abel fidgeted, looking anywhere but into Cain's black, accusing eyes. "Cain, I'm-I'm sorry," he said lamely.

"For what?" Cain 'tched. "For having a panic attack? For having a flashback? Welcome to the club, Princess. Ain't a guy on board hasn't had one. It was part of the job description when you signed up for this shithole, except nobody bothered to tell you. You get to find it out for yourself."

Cain paused, raking a hand through his unruly black hair in exasperation. "Look, Abel, if they kicked off every nutjob there'd be nobody left to fly this tub. But if you really need to bail-"

"I said no," Abel retorted, headachey and cross. "Just get it over with why don't you! Tell me I'm a stupid, pathetic loser who can't handle it." Goddammit, he was not going to start crying. This would be a really good time for a hug, Abel pleaded silently.

Cain closed the distance bewteen them and reached for him, grabbing Abel by the arm and cupping his face in his hand. "Whatever you want, Princess," he ground out, angrier than Abel had ever seen him. "You're a stupid, pathetic loser who tried to off himself, and if you ever, EVER try to hurt yourself again, I will kick your ass from one end of this ship to the next. You feel like you're going off the deep end, you come to me. What the hell do you think I'm here for?" He squeezed Abel's arm hard enough to bruise. " Just to bring your pampered ass breakfast in bed everyday?!"

He shoved Abel away from him and glared. "Stop crying."

"I-I'm not!" Abel sobbed. He scrubbed his eyes like a child. "Don't be mad at me, I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry!"

Cain stood, glaring at him. "Good. Now get your ass in the shower; you reek. But first, you're gonna flush every one of those goddamn pills down the john."

* * *

It was Cain who actually washed him, his soapy hands moving over Abel's exhausted body in a brisk, businesslike manner. It was the first time they'd showered together that neither of them got hard. Cain toweled him off and even stripped and changed the sheets while Abel sat meekly on the toliet seat, watching him. They dressed in shorts and T-shirts, and when Cain arranged them back in the bed together, propped up against the wall, he finally pulled Abel next to him with an arm around his side. Abel lay his head on Cain's chest, sighing in relief as Cain stroked his back in forgiveness.

"You want to tell me about it?"

Abel was quiet for a moment. "Did you ever have one?" he ventured timidly.

Cain's paused, and then sighed. "The first couple months out of basic, yeah. I saw a guy from my barracks get crushed by a hi-lo when we were working in stores. I couldn't go back to the warehouse for weeks after."

Abel shuddered. "That's horrible. How did you...what did you do to get through it?"

He felt Cain shrug. "Drank, so I could sleep. Got in a lot of fights. Fucked Deimos." he paused, then added quietly, "Talked to Deimos. I probably would have blown my brains out if it wasn't for him."

"Oh," Abel whispered against Cain's chest. The cotton of his T-shirt was soft against his cheek, and he laid his hand on Cain's flat belly, fingers stroking absently.

"You want to talk about it?" Cain asked again, the hand on Abel's waist slipping down to his hip, his thigh.

Abel closed his eyes, feeling warm and safe and never wanting it to stop. "No."

The hand on his hip curved around to cup his ass. "We already had a fight, and I don't have any booze," Cain said softly. He rolled them over so he was on top of Abel, hands on either side of his face.

"Want me to fuck you?" he murmured against Abel's mouth.

Abel kissed him, just a press of lips, soft, and open. "Yes," he whispered back. "Yes."

But Cain didn't fuck him. He made love to him, gentle and slow. He didn't pull Abel up on his hands and knees, or fold him in half. He lay on top of Abel, skin on skin, rocking into him in a sesnsual rhythm, kissing him the entire time. Abel's hands roamed his beautiful male body, touching all the places Cain liked and delighting in his moans. Mine, Abel though dizzily, this is mine; this man, this pleasure, this incredible intimacy. This was where he belonged.

"I love you!" Abel panted as he climaxed, shaking and crying out as Cain thrust into him deeply over and over, drawing it out until Abel was sobbing, overwhelmed. Cain gasped, body freezing as he emptied himself inside Abel's tight embrace. He groaned against Abel's neck, murmuring something in his Russian against Abel's hair.

"Did you call me Ethan again?" Abel murmured.

"Who's Ethan?" Cain whispered against his ear, and Abel closed his eyes and sighed.

* * *

After cleaning up they lay together for a long time, bare bodies tangled together on the makeshift bed. They talked about nothing, and everything, until it was time for Cain to leave for his 15:00 hours duty shift.

"You gonna be okay, until I get back?" Cain asked as he dressed, and Abel smiled and nodded, feeling sleepy and content.

Cain leaned over an kissed him, and Abel turned on his side and reached up to pull him closer. He yelped when Cain gave his ass a little slap.

"See you later, Princess," Cain laughed, and with a wink and a grin, he was gone.

So it was with surprise that Abel heard the door buzz not more than twenty minutes later.

"What did you forget this time?" he teased, making his way to the door.

But it wasn't Cain at all.

"Hi," Athos said quietly, while Abel gaped at him, wondering for a split second if he really had brought him soup. "Um, if I'm not bugging you or anything, I , um, wondered if I could talk to you ?"

What the hell? " You're not," Abel said, and then quickly amended, "I mean, you're not bugging me. Um, sure, Athos, come in. "

Athos did, and then they both stood there awkwardly, looking at the two mattress shoved together on the floor. The sheets were still rumpled and the room probably reeked of sex. Hell, Abel was rumpled, too. Athos was looking at him funny, and Abel blushed, wondering how many hickies Cain had given him.

Then Athos shrugged, with a little smile. "Ours are the same way," he admitted, and Abel smiled back in relief.

"Want to sit down?" Abel offered, and Athos nodded.

"You didn't come to the lab today," Athos started, " and Keeler said you were sick. I just wondered..." He twisted his hands together nervously. "If you were okay?"

Really? Abel wanted to say. Athos was actually here trying be friends, all of a sudden? Just because they'd watched two team mates die a horrible death?

And Abel realized, that was exactly what they both should be doing.

"No," he answered honestly. "Not really."

"Yeah," Athos whispered, looking at Abel with haunted eyes. "Me neither." He drew a shuddery breath, looking as miserable as Abel felt.

"This is so fucked up, isn't it?" Athos whispered at last. "I couldn't sleep, for the first two nights after-after-" he swallowed, hard, unable to finish. "If Praxis hadn't've been there, I don't think I would have made it. I guess Puck is doing awful. I overheard Keeler say he might end up getting a psych discharge. "

"Oh," Abel said unhappily. "Oh, I hope not. We just lost Pan, I don't want to lose Puck, too. "

"That'll make it only twenty-seven of us left, then," Athos said despondently.

Athos had been in Abel's class at the academy too, along with Pan, and Puck. They had all gotten along fairly well back then and were elated when they were assigned to the same base after graduation. Things became strained between Athos and Abel after the incident with the _Tiberius_, however, and Abel had written him off as a friend.

"Abel," Athos began, eyes downcast, "I've been pretty shitty to you, and-"

"Athos; don't," Abel said, shaking his head. Somehow, an apology didn't seem that important anymore. "It's not a big deal; don't worry about it."

"Yes, it is," Athos insisted. He forced himself to look Abel in the eye. "We don't have time to take each other for granted. You never know...if the mean thing you said to someone, was tthe last thing they'll ever hear."

He gave Abel a sad half smile. "Or if it's the last kiss you'll ever give them."

"It looked like a pretty good one, at least " Abel said softly. "I'm glad it was you though, instead of me."

Athos blushed. "It was kind of gross, but...I'm glad I did it."

They shared a chuckle, and Athos sighed in relief.

"So, I was thinking," Athos went on, "that we should go talk to Puck. Do you want to go with me sometime? When you're feeling better, I mean?"

"Sure Athos," Abel smiled, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "Let's go right now."

* * *

Starfighter belongs to the talented Hamletmachine; not me. I am making no money from this story. Thank you for reading, those of you who have gotten this far :). Now go read the beautiful webcomic Starfighter, and spread the love.

A2MOM


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